Repercussions of a Servant
by Iron Robin
Summary: It's been a month since Loki took control of Tony Stark's mind and body. Everything seems fine. But Tony's been hearing a voice that isn't supposed to be there. And it's gotten him thinking. What if he wasn't meant to be a hero? (Sequel to Loki's Unknown Servant.)
1. Chapter 1

**And it's back! I'm going to level with you. I never planned to make a sequel. But so many of y'all wanted more that I figured "eh, what the heck?" Wait, that came out wrong. Inspiration struck me as well. This isn't a pointless fic, I swear. **

**I don't own any of the Avengers, and I'm not near smart enough to build my own J.A.R.V.I.S.**

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><p>"You are <em>so <em>going down, Stark!"

"Not if I can help it, Barton!"

The taunts and jibes thrown between the two men might be considered violent out of context. (What with the _"I totally just knocked you out!"_ And the _"I'm thinking of a million ways to strangle you right now."_) But in reality, they were just playing boxing on the Wii. It probably looked funny seeing two grown men, Avengers at that, holding remotes and punching thin air. Not to mention they both had a team.

"You're perspiring too much, Tony," Bruce chided, trying to get a bottle of water in his friend's hand. "You need water."

"No time," Tony insisted, shaking his head. "Hit me."

Bruce sighed, spurting some water into Tony's mouth. In his opinion, his friends got way too involved with these games.

"Can you hit me, too, Nat?" Clint asked, not taking his eyes off the screen. "I'm getting pretty thirsty myself."

"Sure," Natasha said sweetly, getting up from her perch on the couch. "I can hit you."

"Great, tha-" Barton broke off when his legs were suddenly sliding out from underneath him due to a flawlessly executed move from the Black Widow.

Tony was unable to finish the boxing match, for he was laughing too hard. "She one hundred percent nailed you, Legolas."

"Yup," Clint said shortly, his breath having whooshed from his lungs because of his tumble. "Noticed."

"Only so I could do this," Natasha interrupted, moving down to straddle Clint. She bent over to give him a kiss that seemed impossibly gentle for the likes of a deadly assassin.

Tony and Bruce exchanged looks before chorusing, "Ew, gross!"

Honestly, it didn't surprise any of the Avengers when Hawkeye and Black Widow announced they were dating a few weeks ago. It had only been a matter of time.

Natasha flipped her short red hair out of her eyes, shooting the two standing men a death glare. It was no secret that she loved making the others feel uncomfortable. "If you don't like it, you can get a room."

"Why don't _you _get a room?" Tony returned even as he switched off the TV and headed for the kitchen. Why not leave the assassins to it?

Banner followed him, glancing over his shoulder to make sure the couple was out of earshot before whispering, "How are you doing?"

Tony frowned at him, pulling an iced coffee out of the fridge. "You ask me that every day, Banner."

"I know. But I'm a doctor."

"I thought you said you weren't that kind of doctor."

"I'm not. But as your friend, it's my job to make sure you're not experiencing...repercussions."

"You don't have to dance around the subject, you know," Tony commented, taking a swig of his drink. "I know you're all worried about the Loki incident."

"Of course, we are!" Bruce exclaimed, his voice raising slightly. "No one comes out of something like that unscathed."

"Barton seems fine."

"Barton had Natasha and an alien invasion insisting he be fine."

Tony sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Look. I'm _okay. _Reindeer Games is gone. I shook him off."

Banner arched an eyebrow. "And how exactly did you do that? It still doesn't make sense."

"I saw the rest of you in danger," Tony returned, rolling his eyes in exasperation. "We've been over this. Like Barton, I had to be fine. So I was."

He watched Bruce's eyes scan him, a skeptical look in them. Tony inwardly crossed his fingers that his science bro would get off his back. It was getting tiring, this routine they'd invented. Every day was the same. Banner would ask how he was doing, Tony would answer with fine. But there were days like this where the conversation escalated. Tony hated these days.

"Okay," Bruce said eventually, nodding slowly. "I believe you."

"Good," Tony deadpanned. "Same time tomorrow?"

Banner managed a small smile at that. "Same time tomorrow."

"I'm hitting the showers, then," Tony said, leaving his science bro in the kitchen. Thank goodness Banner didn't protest anymore.

The truth was...Tony _wasn't _fine. He hadn't told anyone, not even Pepper, that he suspected something was wrong with him. He often heard a voice coming from someone that wasn't there. A voice that sounded distinctly snotty and British. Maybe Loki had lost control over his body, but Tony suspected the trickster god still had a slight hold on his mind.

Then there were the dreams. Just like when Loki had been the ruler of his being, Tony dreamt about him. But they weren't normal dreams. No, they were so much more. They were _real. _Well, as real as they could be. (Tony still couldn't figure out how to punch the god in the nose without having his hand pass right through it.)

Conversations is what these dreams were. Conversations about how pointless his heroic act was. What was the point of being a big, strong hero when everyone looked at you like you needed psychotic attention?

No. Tony wasn't a hero. He was a very capable man in a suit of armor, yes. But he wasn't a hero. In fact, why had he become Iron Man in the first place? Not to become a hero. No, he became Iron Man in order to escape captivity. So, really, Iron Man was just a cocoon Tony used to escape the responsibilities of life. (Loki's words, not Tony Stark's. Though maybe he had a point...)

Tony didn't want to accept help, but part of him considered contacting Thor who had returned to Asgard after the Loki incident. Maybe the thunder god could lend a hand. Maybe he could zap Tony's brain to eradicate Loki or something. But one, Tony hated admitting his weaknesses. And two, he wasn't sure how he would contact Thor in the first place.

So that idea was out the window. It was easier to put up walls and pretend he was perfectly fine. It had become an art Tony had mastered over the years. It was second nature by now. If he wanted to admit it, he still didn't completely trust the Avengers. He didn't trust them enough to share about Loki anyway. After the Loki crap, everything had pretty much gone back to normal with Tony being an annoying jerk, and the other Avengers getting on his nerves.

"Stark?" a commanding-in-a-way-that-he-couldn't-help voice asked, snapping Tony out of his thoughts. "You all right? I'm not sure you can win a staring contest with a wall."

Great. It was the I-pretend-to-be-concerned-but-Tony-doesn't-believe-it Captain America. The man was like Banner. He couldn't get off of Tony's back about Loki.

"Don't do sarcasm, Cap. You can't pull it off. It's like watching a clown trying to be morbid."

He could practically _hear _Steve rolling his eyes. "Dually noted. But seriously. What's wrong?"

"Nothing!" Tony snapped, whirling on the Captain. "_God, _what is it with you and Banner? Why can't you just leave me the heck alone?"

Rogers arched both eyebrows. "Because we worry about you."

"I'm not a little kid, Rogers. I don't need babysitting."

"I never said you did."

That voice. Tony _hated _that voice. It was the voice Cap used when he was trying to make Tony feel better about himself while defending his own position. Okay, so maybe that's not how Steve meant it to sound, but that was how Tony interpreted it.

"Whatever. In answer to your question, for the _thirtieth time, _I'm fine."

For his credit, Rogers didn't look as skeptical as Banner had. No, he had that stoic look on his face that Tony wanted to slap off _so bad. _He thought that he and the Captain had connected over the Loki problem, but after it was over, Rogers went back to being the most aggravating man on the planet. Everything about him irked Tony. He didn't know if that was just because, or if Loki had a hand in it. And, quite frankly, Tony didn't care. Loki or no Loki, Captain America was a pain in the butt.

"Good," Steve said, nodding once. "Just checking."

He started off down the hall in the direction he'd apparently been going when he had stumbled upon the not-quite-there billionaire. "But you might want to hit the showers."

"Thank you, Captain Obvious!" Tony called after him, mock saluting. He mentally stomped his foot when he didn't get a reaction out of Rogers. He lived to annoy that man as much as he annoyed Tony.

As he was about to enter his room, Tony was stopped by Clint and Natasha.

"Hey, Stark," Barton said. "How do you feel-"

"_I'm fine!_" Tony shouted, pressing his hands against his temples in frustration. "Why can't any of you leave me _alone?!_"

Natasha arched a delicate eyebrow (why was everyone arching eyebrows at him today?). "Clint was trying to ask you how you felt about a rematch."

"Oh," Tony said, letting his hands slip back down to his sides. Both agents were looking at him in a slightly bewildered way. "Right. Maybe later."

Barton shrugged, beginning to lead Romanoff back to where they came. "Suit yourself."

After watching them go, Tony darted into his room before anyone else could stop him. He leaned against the door he'd slammed behind him, taking deep breaths to calm himself. He was fine. He was just having one of those days. Everyone had days where every little thing irked them, right? It wasn't Loki.

_"Sir, are you all right?"_

"Not you, too, J.A.R.V.I.S," Tony groaned, punching a wall as if that would hurt the A.I.

_"I apologize, but I noticed your accelerated breathing and heart rate. I was concerned for your health."_

Tony hesitated, his fist still resting against the wall. "So...it has nothing to do with my mental health?"

_"Of course not, sir. You talk to yourself all the time. How have these past weeks been any different?"_

"Oh, I don't know. Because I'm talking to Loki? The highly dangerous Asgardian god of mischief?"

J.A.R.V.I.S was quiet for a moment before answering. _"I may be slightly worried, but I have learned to, as you say, 'keep my mouth shut'."_

That actually drew a low chuckle out of Tony, and he moved his hand to pat the wall. "Sometimes you're the only one I can talk to, J."

_"I would not say that is a good thing. I am, after all, your 'computerized butler'."_

Tony shook his head, stepping through his bathroom door. "Yeah, you're probably right. It's not healthy to keep only an artificial intelligence for company."

J.A.R.V.I.S, having nothing more to say after that, went silent as Tony undressed and stepped into the shower, wishing that the warm water could wash away all his problems.


	2. Chapter 2

**I'm remembering that Steve was a main character in _Loki's Unknown Servant_, so I'm thinking I'll alternate between him and Tony like in the last story. I have to say, I'm super stoked about this sequel. Part of me wants to rush forward, but I'm doing my best to take it slow. XD**

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><p>Steve tried. He tried so hard to understand what Tony was going through. But, really, how many people could relate to having a god playing with their soul like a puppet master? Sure, Clint could, but he seemed to be like Tony in the fact that he didn't want to talk about it. But Steve didn't find Barton staring at a wall for ages, or talking to someone who wasn't there.<p>

Yes, Steve hadn't said anything, but he'd caught Stark talking to who he assumed to be Loki. There had been one particular instance that worried him more than others. The time where he'd heard Stark arguing that he w_as _a hero. That Iron Man _wasn't _an escape. That Capsicle _hadn't _been right on the Helicarrier. Steve had wanted so badly to interfere, but he knew he'd only get snarky, stubborn Stark in return if he did.

So, _yes, _he often asked if Tony was feeling okay. Who wouldn't? The man could be so incredibly aggravating, but Steve really did care.

But then...maybe another reason Steve was so concerned was because the last time Loki had an effect on Stark, he'd been unable to help his frien-teammate (he was starting to wonder if 'friend' was the right term here). Why? For one, he had no idea how to deal with a god possessing you. For another thing, he'd been put into a coma by none other than the person he was trying to help before he could do anything. By the time he'd woken up, he'd found Tony in a state that was all too familiar. It was a state that he'd seen in so many men during the war. They would experience something so bad, so mind shattering, that they'd go insane. And Steve could never do anything about it.

But after the deadly fight with Electro, with Stark saving his life, Steve thought that Tony had returned to normal. He certainly _seemed_ normal. But Steve had learned early on that Stark could be dying on the inside and you'd never know it. He was an expert at hiding his emotions. Steve could understand that, but it certainly made it harder to lend a hand with something like internal Loki.

Tony had seemed so _angry _earlier. It was like he hated everyone and everything and he wouldn't mind one bit if everyone but him dropped dead. Before Loki, Steve wouldn't have thought anything of it other than wondering who put salt in his coffee. Stark wasn't a team player. He never had been, really. But Tony had been a bit _too _on edge. Even for him.

That was why when Stark emerged from his shower and into the kitchen for the usual Avengers dinner (Fury insisted they try to get a long at least a little bit), Steve took extra care to keep his glances at the man subtle.

But his concern was in vain, for Tony was a completely different man from earlier that day. He kept up the witty banter with Clint, pretended to flirt with Natasha, and talked science with Bruce. He was himself. And it confused Steve to no end.

"Is there something on my face, Spangles?" Stark asked, arching an eyebrow across the table at him. "Or are you admiring my stunningly good looks?"

Barton snickered and Natasha elbowed him, but there was a slight amused glint in her eyes as well. Even Bruce looked amused.

So much for his subtle glances. "No," Steve answered, shaking his head. "Unless you call that beard 'something on your face'."

Tony looked mock hurt, laying a hand on his chest. "You don't like my goatee?"

"Back in my day, handlebar mustaches were more in style."

Before Steve could regret using the phrase 'back in my day', the other Avengers burst into laughter and began mimicking him.

"Back in my day, young whippersnappers had to go outside to entertain themselves," Barton said in an old man voice.

"Back in my day, a dollar could buy you a years worth of food!" Natasha chimed in, hunched over like an elderly person.

"That's an exaggeration," Steve interrupted, trying to be stern but failing. He'd gotten used to being teased about his age. It didn't offend him like it used to.

"Back in my day, the most advanced piece of technology we had was a mechanical pencil," Tony put in, smirking.

"Now you're just being mean," Steve protested, flicking a spoonful of rice across the table at the others. "Some super nice, dependable, role model heroes you are."

Everyone laughed except Stark, and Steve realized his mistake too late. He'd _just_ been thinking about the man's one-sided conversation about defending his title as a hero, and he'd gone and said something that was offending to someone as sore to the subject as that.

Over the laughter, Steve couldn't hear what Tony was saying, but he could see the man's lips moving. He was undoubtedly talking to that voice inside his head again. Reading his lips, Steve could barely make out _"...saying that...I...hero!"_

"Stark..." Steve started to say, making a move to get up.

Tony merely shook his head, frowning, as he got to his feet. He angrily threw his napkin on the table and stormed from the room, cutting off the laughter with his abrupt departure.

The three remaining Avengers turned their eyes to their leader, varying looks of confusion and disapproval in their gazes. They all started talking over one another, Clint wondering what he had said, Natasha telling him he was an idiot (Steve couldn't tell if she was talking to him or Barton), and Bruce saying he should have known better.

"Enough!" Steve called over the commotion, holding up a hand. "It was a slip of the tongue. No, Clint, it wasn't anything you said. Yes, Natasha, I _am _an idiot. And yes, Bruce, I should have known better. I'll go talk to him."

Before anyone could say anything more, Steve got to his feet and headed in the direction Stark had disappeared in. He paused outside the man's bedroom door, not out of politeness, but out of curiosity. He could hear a voice (_singular form) _coming from the other side. If it weren't for his acute hearing, Steve wouldn't be able to make it out.

"Don't tell me you have a hold on Rogers, too, RG...Because what are the odds he says something like that _right _after you mentioned it last night?...Captain Perfect? Purposely addressing my insecurities? Actually, that's not too hard to believe...Yeah, you're right. _Especially _after the Helicarrier verbal smack down."

Steve inwardly cringed at the mention. He wasn't going to be able to live that one down, was he? Tony would never forget his comments about false self-sacrifice and heroism. You would have thought he would have learned from that incident to watch what he said around Stark. His 'Captain Perfect' nickname most definitely _wasn't _accurate. Anyone could see that.

"What do you mean someone's outside my door? I thought we decided they were only pretending to care...You have _got _to be kidding me." Stark's tone of voice changed to where it was obvious he was addressing his unwelcome visitor. "What do you want?"

Steve felt awkward talking to a door, but he hadn't been invited in, so he rolled with it. "What would you think if I said I was here to apologize?"

There were several moments of silence, then the sound of a lock clicking, and the door opened to reveal an obviously annoyed Tony Stark. Steve was surprised his eyes didn't pop out because of how hard he was rolling his eyes. "See, this is why I call you Captain Perfect."

Steve managed a half smile. "I'm anything but perfect, Stark."

"Only a perfect man would say that, you know."

"Look, I wanted to say sorry about what I said."

Tony tilted his head, his gaze distant for a moment, and Steve realized he was listening to Loki again. "How would you know to be sorry?"

Oh, _right. _He wasn't necessarily supposed to know about Tony's 'hero' conversations with the trickster god. Whoops. "I just...you seemed upset after I sarcastically called you all heroes."

There. That was an effective way to mention he knew something was up, but he didn't know what, right? No matter what, he could _not _let Stark find out he knew about Loki.

Tony narrowed his eyes in skepticism, but he didn't call Steve out. Good. "It wasn't what you said. I ate a bad piece of sushi."

Steve inwardly sighed. So much for trying to get Stark to open up. "Oh. Then...I hope you feel better."

"You're a terrible liar. When did you find out?"

"Find out...about what?"

"Don't keep trying to lie to me, Rogers," Tony snapped, his dark brown eyes nearly black with his growing anger. "When did you discover Loki's still with me?"

Steve hesitated for a moment before deciding it was pointless to act innocent. And here he thought he was a relatively good actor. "Depends. Which one counts? When you started talking to someone other than yourself, or when you became more snappish than usual."

"So, what, two weeks? Wow. Kudos for not mentioning it before now. When did the oh-so-stupendous Captain America learn how to keep a secret?"

Steve didn't appreciate the condescending tone, but he let it slide considering the circumstances. "I want to help you. Maybe if we contact Thor..."

"I don't need Thor!" Tony shot back. "I don't need _you. _Heck, I don't need _anyone! _I'm _fine. _I'm handling it. The Rock of Ages won't get the best of me."

That might have been reassuring, but when Stark said he was 'handling it', that generally meant he was drinking and emotionally dying. "Tony, I just want-"

"To help me. I know. But, _God, _why can't you see that I don't want your help? Stop pretending you're my friend, Rogers. We both know we're fooling ourselves."

"What do you mean?" Steve asked, frowning. They'd never actually physically _said _they weren't friends.

"I _mean, _we're too opposite. And in this case, opposites _don't_ attract. I hate you, you hate me. Why can't we leave it at that?"

"I never said-"

"You didn't have to. It's written all over your face. You hate my guts because I'm not my father, right?"

"Tony..."

"Save it. It's your lucky day because you won't have to deal with me for a while."

Dread began weighing down on Steve's heart as he realized he was fighting a losing battle. "Why do you say that?"

"I'm taking a vacation. A leave of absence, if you will. The Avengers will manage just fine without me," Tony answered, impossibly casual.

"But we-"

"This isn't up for discussion."

Before Steve could voice one more word of protest, the door was being slammed in his face, and the audible click of the lock sounded once again.

He couldn't pretend that the words spoken weren't a total lie. Tony wasn't his favorite person in the world, but Steve in no way _hated _him. It had to be Loki talking again. Because Stark would _never _think that. Steve wouldn't let him. Right?

This was the last straw. Steve silently resolved to do everything he could to dislodge Loki from Tony's mind once and for all. He was getting his teammate back if it was the last thing he did.

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><p><strong>Hm...is Steve one hundred percent sure it's all Loki? Because I'm not convinced. What do you guys think? <strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**Special thanks to MarvelLuver for pointing out a slight plot hole in the last chapter. I'm fixing that in this one (because platonic IronWidow is my favorite). And thanks to everyone who has stuck with me throughout the mess of _Loki's Unknown Servant_ and into this story. Y'all are the best!**

**In other news, I'm on winter break! And you know what that means. More updates! You know, probably. I'm not making any promises.**

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><p>Tony was one thousand percent <em>done. <em>He was sick and tired of the Avengers treading on thin ice around him, or looking at him like he was a bomb that was about to explode. Loki hadn't changed him _that _much. The only thing that was different was the fact that instead of talking to himself, J.A.R.V.I.S, or his robots, he was talking to a voice in his head. What was the big deal?

That was why he'd decided to take this vacation. He needed to get away before he exploded for entirely different reasons. Like annoying teammates. Who did Rogers thing he was anyway? The Captain was always trying to be the better man. Whether that was apologizing for something that wasn't really his fault, or checking on his team when he thought they needed it. It drove the heck out of Tony.

And _that _was why he found himself angrily shoving clothes into a suitcase even though he technically had everything he needed at the beach house. It felt good to take his frustration out on physical objects.

"That crappy, high and mighty, freaking, son of a-"

_"Sir," _J.A.R.V.I.S interrupted. _"I strongly advise you calm down. Your clothing and suitcase have done nothing wrong."_

The ridiculous statement put out some of the fire and Tony stopped mid-thrust. "Is it wrong that I wish I could land a few of these hits on Rogers?"

There was a pause, as if the AI was considering how to approach the situation. Which he probably was. _"I don't believe so, sir. Everyone gets frustrated with other people every once in a while."_

"Good," Tony said, clicking his suitcase shut. "Make sure you keep Spangles away from me, then. I don't trust myself not to whale away on him right now."

When J.A.R.V.I.S didn't answer, Tony nodded in satisfaction, beginning to make his way toward the elevator that would take him to the first floor of the Tower. As long as he could make it there without being stopped by one of his fellow Avengers, he'd be home free.

But, of course, that was too much to ask for.

"And where do you think you're going?"

Tony sighed, reluctantly turning to face one casual Natasha Romanoff sitting at the bar while pouring herself a glass of vodka. Before he could answer, she lifted the bottle. "Care for a drink?"

He pursed his lips, glancing from her to the elevator and back again. "Fine. But just one."

She flashed a coy smile, grabbing another glass. "Of course."

Tony perched on a stool next to her, downing his first glass in a few large gulps before holding it out for a refill.

Natasha obliged, staying silent for a few more moments before asking, "How long?"

He studied her, knowing that this conversation could go one of two ways. The good way or the bad way. "How long for what?"

"How long were you planning on keeping Loki a secret?"

Tony choked on his drink, pounding his fist against his chest to get all the coughing out. "What?" he asked in a strained voice, partially from the choking and partially in surprise.

Natasha rolled her eyes. "Please. You thought Rogers knew and I didn't? You insult me, Stark."

"What, because you tell him everything?" he asked, giving her a knowing look. "Don't go cheating on Barton, now."

She nudged him with her shoulder, smiling slightly. "No, because as much as I respect Cap, he wouldn't know how to discover a secret if it came up and slapped him in the face."

"Then how does he know?"

"He probably overheard you talking to Loki one day. You aren't exactly discreet."

Tony nodded before shooting her a curious look. "How come you never said anything?"

Natasha lifted one shoulder in a half shrug. "Because I know you, Stark. And you _hate _having your privacy invaded. Which is kind of ironic because you're constantly being surrounded by paparazzi."

"Which is probably why I hate having my privacy invaded."

"Probably. You know what else you hate?"

"By all means, doctor. _Please _psychoanalyze my behavior."

"You hate having people close enough to you to actually be concerned about your well being. You hate knowing that if their close to you, it will hurt all the more when they're gone."

Tony froze at that, both the bluntness and truth to her words shocking him. The sole reason he never let anyone in was because whenever he did, that person suffered a terrible fate. Yinsen, Coulson, Maya. Heck, even his _parents_ fell into that category. But he couldn't recall ever _telling _anyone that. He supposed that was why Natasha was the expert.

"Is it that obvious?"

She shook her head. "Not really. But I've known you for a while. And even before that, I read all your files."

She fell silent for a moment, turning her gaze upwards to look into his eyes. "You don't have to pretend around me, Tony."

"What about you?" Tony asked, fearing that if he let this moment get to him, he'd break emotionally and never heal again. "You _met _me while pretending."

Natasha shook her head again. "Ever since you figured out who I was, have I lied to you?"

He considered that, staring back at her. Her eyes dared him to contradict her, but they also held sincerity. "No. No, I guess you haven't."

Her eyes changed, showing she was satisfied. "And I won't lie to you again. But that means you can't lie to me, either. Understand?"

"Fine," Tony gave in grudgingly, feeling like he'd regret this later.

"Good. You know, you have Rogers convinced your volatile behavior as of late is all Loki's fault," Natasha started, tilting her head. "But I don't think that's the case. What's going on? And tell me the truth."

Tony looked at her, wondering whose strength of will would win. His stubbornness against sharing his feelings, or her firmness in wanting to lend aid. In the end, he figured it would be faster to indulge her.

"It's not all Loki. Yeah, he's annoying as heck, so that severs my patience a bit, but he has no control over me anymore. My mind is my own. It's just...inhabited at the moment."

"What's he been telling you?" she asked, cutting right to the chase.

Tony paused for a moment, taking in a deep breath through his nose. "Do you think I'm hero material?"

The abrupt change of subject didn't seem to faze Natasha in the slightest, and her answer was rapid. "Not originally. But after New York and reading about you handling A.I.M? Yeah, I have to say I think you're hero material. Why do you ask?"

Before he could answer, her brow furrowed in a hint of anger. "Is that what Loki's been saying to you? That you're not a hero?"

"Why am I even here?" Tony asked, trying to make a joke. "You don't need me to get your answers."

"You know he's wrong, right?" Natasha asked, her question sounding more like a statement. "You can't listen to him."

Tony arched an eyebrow, knowing doubt was the prominent emotion in his expression. "And why do you say that?"

"Because you've proved over and over again that he's wrong!" she insisted, surprising Tony with her indignation. It was if she couldn't begin to comprehend why he would believe Loki. "Come on, Stark. You don't have a non-heroic bone in your body. Yes, you can be a bit...jerkish sometimes, but that in no way says you're not a hero."

"Maybe not," Tony relented, if only to get her off his back. He didn't feel like arguing with her. Not today.

"No, look at me," Natasha said emphatically, cupping his face in her hands and forcing him to meet her crystal clear green eyes. "You can _not _let Loki get to you. You _are _Iron Man. And Iron Man is a hero. Do you understand me?"

Again, Tony was surprised at her display of emotion, but he found himself nodding. "Okay."

"Okay what?"

"Okay, I won't let him get to me."

She studied him for a moment, not quite looking like she believed him, but let him go anyway. "Good. You still thinking about that vacation?"

Tony thought about that for a second. As much as Natasha believing in him lifted his spirits, there was still that one little problem dressed in red, white, and blue. Two, if you counted Banner. "Yeah, I think so. But I won't be gone long, I hope."

Natasha nodded, seeming pleased with his answer. "All right. You take care of yourself, Tony."

He nodded, slipping off the stool. "You, too, Nat."

She offered a rare, genuine smile in his direction as he turned to go. He began to feel like maybe his situation wasn't entirely hopeless. Maybe he could beat this. Just so long as Natasha stayed by his side, he'd be fine. Right?

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><p>As much as the Black Widow's pep talk had helped him, Tony still let out a sigh of relief as he unlocked the door to his secluded beach house. No one knew the location of this particular form of solitude except for Pepper, and she was away on business. He could count on being alone without the stress of the Avengers breathing down his neck.<p>

The first thing he did after tossing his suitcase on his bed was go to the kitchen to grab a scotch. He felt like the vodka had worn off _way _too fast.

Turning on the TV in the living area, Tony propped his feet up to try and relax. It was going great until _you know who _decided to make an appearance.

"I don't suppose you saved any of that drink for me?" Loki asked, lounging in the chair perpendicular to the couch Tony was sitting on. "Haven't you ever heard of respect for your elders, Anthony?"

Tony shot him a look. "I don't care if you're centuries older than me, Reindeer Games. You look like you're in your twenties. And how are you making yourself visible? I thought I had to be dreaming for that."

Loki shrugged casually. "We can say you're daydreaming if that makes you feel better."

"Whatever. What do you want this time? To give the hero speech again?"

"No. I thought you could use a drinking partner. Didn't I just say that?"

Tony glanced at him with an air of confusion this time. "Can illusions drink?"

Loki shrugged once more. "It's worth a try, don't you think?"

Sixty seconds and another bottle of scotch later, the mortal and the god sat side by side on the couch, drinking and watching the News like it was the symbol of normalcy.

"My spirits are only lifted _for now_. Don't think this means we can make this a regular thing," Tony warned.

Loki flashed one of his signature smiles. "Wouldn't dream of it."

Tony snorted, taking a swig of his drink. "That was the worst pun ever."

"Oh, you're one to talk," Loki shot back. "At least I appreciate your puns. Do any of the Avengers?"

"Oh _no,_" Tony returned immediately, shaking his head. "I don't need _you _turning me against the Avengers. They do that enough themselves."

"Hm. You seem to be quite fond of Agent Romanoff, though. And here I thought you have a girlfriend."

Tony glared at Loki, and he would have slapped him had he not been an illusion. "Ever heard of a platonic relationship, RG? That's what this is."

"Nevertheless, she doesn't annoy you as much as say, the Captain?"

"Okay, you've got me there. What does this have to do with anything anyway?"

Loki shook his head. "Nothing. I'm just trying to understand that beautifully twisted mind of yours."

"My mind is _not _twisted," Tony defended, crossing his arms as if he was a child.

Loki simply turned his eyes back to the TV. "No, I suppose it isn't."

Tony nodded, following the god's gaze only to hear him whisper, "Except that it is."

"That's it," Tony said through clenched teeth. "Go away."

He swept his hand through Loki only to find that it didn't make him disappear like it had in the past. He tried again, his movements growing more frantic. "Why isn't it working?"

"Because I want to see how you react to that," Loki answered, pointing at the television screen.

Tony's eyes followed Loki's finger to see a News story covering an attack on downtown Manhattan. It showed a group of criminals terrorizing the most successful bank in the city. It even showed a few civilians getting caught in the crossfire, dropping dead from bullets placed in their heads.

"_Seriously?_" Tony groaned, dropping his face into his hands. "I _just _left, and the city's already in danger?"

"It seems like you can't catch a break," Loki mused.

Tony whirled on him, shoving a finger in his face. "I don't need commentary from you."

The god held his hands up in a defensive gesture. "So be it. But something tells me you can't sit by and let the other Avengers do all the work."

Tony wanted _so badly _to answer that, in fact, he _could. _Because this _could _be a four person job. They didn't need Iron Man on the scene. Captain America, Black Widow, Hawkeye, and the Hulk would do just fine without him.

But none of those words came out of his mouth. Instead, he let out another groan and said, "I hate it when you're right."

The last sight he had of Loki before the god faded out of existence was one of him smiling in triumph as if he knew something Tony didn't.


	4. Chapter 4

**Well, a Christmas update certainly didn't happen, did it? Oops. Here, have a chapter and an apology from me.**

* * *

><p>Even as he hurled his shield at the nearest Extremis soldier, Steve couldn't get Stark out of his head. It was his fault the Avengers' resident genius had left. <em>His fault <em>that the man thought he hated him. _His fault _that Tony had a hard time handling Loki.

Okay, so that last one might not have been completely true, but Steve felt as if it was. If he had only given more effort to listening and understanding, or getting Stark to open up in the first place, this whole mess wouldn't be happening.

"Steve!" Natasha snapped at him from her position kneeling next to a wounded Hawkeye. A growing patch of red blood tinted with blue was growing on his chest. "What do we do?"

Steve glanced at her, feeling almost confused. What was she talking about? What was there to know? They needed to beat the Extremis soldiers down until they...until they...wait. They healed ridiculously fast. Right.

"Get your head in the game, Steve," Bruce's voice said through the comm in his ear.

Steve shook his head to clear it, but he still found that he couldn't give Natasha a clear answer. He was too busy thinking about how he'd failed his friend once again. It had him remembering Bucky, and how his best friend had died because of him. How was Stark any different? Sure, they were entirely different circumstances, but in both cases it was his fault they had died. So Tony hadn't died yet, but Steve found his mind filling with dark thoughts about the matter. Stark yelling at him and then leaving. Stark alone to suffer Loki's mental wrath. Stark jumping off a roof to end the agony...

It took a blast of flame from an Extremis soldier heating his back to snap Steve out of his thoughts. He whirled around to protect himself with his shield only to see Natasha out of the corner of his eye. She was doing well fighting off the threat, but without a strategic plan from Captain America, she soon fell by getting hit point blank in the chest with a fireball.

When he was distracted and running over to help her, Steve felt a fireball bigger than the one that hit Natasha slam into his back, sending him flying. When he landed, a beeping sound started.

_"Simulation failed."_

Clint and Natasha got to their feet, brushing themselves off. Both of them were glaring at Steve with looks of frustration, anger, and disapproval.

"What the heck was that?" Clint demanded, marching over to their leader as he rose to a standing position. "If that had been real we'd all be dead!"

Natasha stood next to her partner, arms crossed. "Which is why we're lucky it wasn't real. Next time we might not be so fortunate."

"It wasn't even realistic," Steve protested in a feeble attempt to defend himself. "The Extremis soldiers are gone."

"Are they?" Bruce asked as he walked up to the group. "Even if they are, that doesn't mean you should blatantly disregard the simulation."

"Why did you set it on that level of difficulty anyway?" Steve shot back, trying not to feel ashamed at his actions.

The doctor raised his eyebrows. "As I recall, you asked me to hit you three with my best shot."

Three pairs of eyes burned into him, and Steve found that he couldn't handle their criticism. Normally, he would welcome it. It helped him realize his mistakes and fix them. But today he'd messed up _again. _First it was Stark, now it was getting his remaining teammates 'killed.'

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, running a hand through his sweat soaked hair. "Why don't...why don't we all take a break?"

The harsh looks in their eyes were slowly melting into concern, but Steve didn't stick around to hear the queries of 'are you okay' or 'what's wrong'. Instead he deposited his shield on the weapons rack and exited the room.

On a normal day he'd be chased down by Tony who would be demanding to know what his problem was while managing to sound unconcerned even though the truth was quite the opposite. On a normal day back during the war he'd be chased down by Bucky who would be demanding to know what his problem was.

Maybe that was why both failing and losing Stark hurt so much. The man wasn't Bucky, but the two definitely had a few things in common. Both were stubborn, both cared about Steve more than they would ever admit, and both had a bit of an ego (or a lot of an ego if it was Stark).

_"You hate my guts because I'm not my father, right?"_ Tony's words echoed in Steve's mind, causing him to cringe.

Howard and he had been close during the war, it was true, but Steve recognized that father and son were different. Except...maybe he _did _wish that Tony was more like Howard sometimes. He couldn't say that he never saw Tony and thought, _If only he were nicer. Howard was nicer. _Or, _Howard never insulted me like that._

But then Tony would say something like he had earlier, and Steve would remember that this man wasn't his father and certainly didn't _want _to be. It would have Steve feeling guilty because even if he didn't hate Stark, the man still had a point.

He sighed as he meandered into the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and perching on a stool. He almost preferred the living hell that was World War II to this battle of wills with Tony Stark.

"You are _such _an idiot."

Steve smiled grimly, not turning around to face the voice. "You've said that before, Natasha."

She briefly rolled her eyes as she slid onto the stool across from him. "I'm saying it again because it's true."

"I know," he answered, voice soft and dejected. He didn't bother hiding his feelings from Natasha. She had a knack for figuring them out anyway.

Her gaze softened. "Just because it's true doesn't mean you have to accept it."

He shrugged. "But I completely agree."

Natasha frowned. "And why is that?"

"I messed up," Steve confessed, finally meeting her eyes. "Tony's gone and I got us all killed in training. If that kind of thing happens for _real..._"

"It won't."

"How can you be sure?"

Natasha was silent for a moment while she studied him, and he felt as if she was seeing right through him. "Because you're Captain America. You don't get your teammates killed."

"What about Bucky?" he countered, a sarcastic tone creeping into his voice. "I did a darn good job keeping _him _alive."

"Barnes knew full well how dangerous your attack on the train was," she insisted, shaking her head firmly. "If he'd wanted to be sure he would stay alive, he wouldn't have joined the army."

Steve fell silent at that. He had to admit she had a point. But that didn't make him feel any better. "I still should have been focusing on the simulation."

"So why weren't you?" Natasha asked, folding her arms and resting them on the table while giving him her full attention.

Steve had a feeling she knew _exactly _why, but he answered her anyway. "I couldn't stop thinking about my failure concerning Stark."

She nodded. "I talked to him before he left, you know."

His shoulders stiffened as he fixed a sharp gaze on her. "What did he say?"

She offered a small smile. "What he said was said in confidence, so I can't tell you. But I _can_ tell you he's focused more on Loki than on you."

"But he left because of me."

"Do you really believe that? Because the way I see it, _all _of us were starting to get on his nerves what with all our worried looks and questions."

"Not you," Steve argued. "He rarely gets annoyed with you."

She smiled again, lifting a shoulder in a half shrug. "That's only because I understand him _without _asking him a whole bunch of questions. Not to mention I _listen _instead of offering advice he doesn't want to hear."

He frowned, his eyebrows drawing together. "So you're saying that I _shouldn't _ask him if he's okay even if it's against my nature. That I should just let the subject drop and treat him like I would on a normal day."

"_Now _you've got it. Maybe you're not as much of an idiot as I originally thought."

Steve shot a wry half smile at her before frowning again. "But it doesn't really matter now. He's off at God knows where with a maniac for a god in his head."

Natasha shrugged once more. "Maybe so. But I'm pretty sure Stark can take care of himself. Besides, before he left, he said he wasn't planning on being gone for too long."

Steve perked up slightly at that. "That's good."

"Don't get your hopes up," she warned, sliding off the stool she was sitting on. "He may be more concerned with Loki, but that doesn't mean you're on his good side."

"Maybe not," he answered. "But at least I know how to try and get off of his bad side."

"That's the spirit," Natasha encouraged before waving a hand at him. "So come on. Let's try that training session again. Clint wasn't pleased with his performance in the last one. He doesn't like to be the first to go down."

"Neither do I," Steve agreed as he followed her. "And I think it was some form of miracle that I lasted as long as I did."

A few minutes later, the three Avengers were in the simulation again (with Bruce watching from the control room). But this time, they worked as a team, perfectly in sync. Steve had managed to come up with a strategy that fought fire with fire. Meaning they used flamethrowers to disable the Extremis soldiers long enough for them to hit the enemies to ensure that they didn't heal. It wasn't perfect. They still failed the simulation, but at least they'd put up more of a fight.

"Too bad we can't use Stark's armor," Clint commented after they were done. "His repulsor blasts were pretty much the only thing that could hurt those things."

Natasha shot him a warning look, but Steve was already feeling a pang in his stomach. That was just another reason for him to feel guilty about Tony's departure. Regardless of what Stark thought, the Avengers really _did _need Iron Man. It was too bad he couldn't say that to their missing member's face.

Before Steve could think further along that line, Bruce's voice was echoing throughout the training room. "We've got trouble. A group of burglars is robbing the bank in downtown Manhattan. And they've got guns. _Big _guns."

"Does it look like they have superpowers of any sort?" Steve asked, already making his way toward the roof and the quinjet, Natasha and Clint right behind him. Bruce met them as they reached the roof.

"No. But they've really thought this crime through. Careful with your tech. They have EMPs."

Steve was about to voice that he didn't have tech when Bruce continued, "And they have sonic blasters, Steve."

"My shield absorbs energy. It's supposed to be indestructible."

"In theory, yes. But if it has to absorb too _much _energy, it won't be able to handle it all, hence breaking the vibranium."

Steve frowned, glancing down at his shield. "Maybe it would be best to leave it behind."

"At least take it with you. Just be careful."

"You coming with us?"

"I'll be your eye in the sky if you don't mind."

Steve nodded and stepped into the quinjet while Natasha and Clint climbed into the front and took off.

"It's a good thing Tony isn't here," Bruce said, trying to be helpful. "The EMP would take him out like that."

Steve merely nodded once more, secretly relieved that Stark wasn't with them, either. If any good came out of their argument and the genius's absence, it was that Tony was safe.


End file.
